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Meadow of the Forest

Moon fills the northland, with an index finger pressed over its lips, gently whispering, “Quiet”,
with its foggy glow, wraps a dimming gift of presents, for the heavens, and you.

Mellow dew sparkles the floor where you catch your reflection in a shadow.
Blue eyes of daytime mirror mysteries of times past reflect, in your wisdom of thinking.
“I love this”, silent words that flow from your cool steamed breath, a Sunday church song.
Bare feet slide forward on the cold soft blades of newborn meadow fronds.

How Long Will I Bleed?

I thought
it would be easy
to let you go

My walls stood proud
Shielding me the whole time

I thought
maybe
letting you go
wouldn't hurt

But here I am
writing about you
while my heart
aches

Those first steps

Frivolously fumbling
their withering way
Never seeming to stay
On the same
prevalent path
painted before
their tattered
tales of time.
And yet with
fear firmly fastened
in their hearts.
They still stiffly
stammer down
that slightly
slanted slope
with their
heedful hearts
hanging on
any hidden
hints of hope.

Insomnia welcomed courtesy high test coffee

consumed later at night than usual
finds me bright eyed and bushy tailed
amply lively to learn
about an American radio
and television personality and pioneer
Wee Willy Weber,
who prominently and popularly reigned
across air waves and small screen
kept in the living/family room
then an obscure square box
frequently exhibiting local entertainers

Endings

Endings
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson

I was a kid who never read the last chapter
Of my favourite books.
Or watched the finale episode
Of my favourite shows.

I wanted to stay in a time and place
Where there was still more to the story.

I never wanted them to end.

But life is full of endings.
And I could never accept that.
And the truth is, I’ve grown up,
But I still haven’t accepted that.
And it has real consequences now.

Of March

She is like the firstborn child
out of bed in the morning --
small feet stepping onto the cold floor,
slipping into summoned rain boots
itching to leap out the screen door
to count the crocus and laugh with the warbling robin.

She is like the restless child at recess
finally released from the classroom,
sprinting to the playground, its revelry
stirring just beneath the snow, waiting
patiently for the thaw, the germination,
the first receptive signs of euphoric new life.

Puppy Trouble

Our little fella, with his prancing gait,
trots down the hall. His feet sounding
a slap, slap, slap on the carpet
he was chewing on a moment ago.

He looks up at me with all the cuteness
the universe could possibly bestow on him
with a brief and curious look – ears at attention!

Please Stay...

I keep replaying
Your words in my head

"Don't go,
I'm begging you,
Please stay..."

The broken record torments me
Day and night

I didn't know
It would end like this

I didn't know
How bad it would hurt

I would've stayed up
All night with you
If only I'd known...

Now here I am,
Sitting at your grave
With your voice
Whispering to me
"Please stay..."

Household God

Black Friday’s band came to play
Grey mourning blues on a Monday
Bawling horns and saxophone sobbing
Good morning you’re good for nothing

Family faces looking grey
Damn the dark cloud above our house
The casket closed and soaked in rain
No more dust and ashes anthems

Three Forks

The Corps of Discovery was born
The year was eighteen zero four,
To find a way to Pacific waters
From St. Lewis they would explore.

The famed expedition to map the West
Led by Lewis and companion Clark,
New discoveries were vast and plenty
Each mapped a unique historic mark.

A Shoshoni girl helped guide them
Through tribal lands of sage and pine,
In Montana they looked in wonder
At three waters they would define.

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